


What Love Is

by Kaslyna



Category: Penny Dreadful (TV)
Genre: 2.10 AU, A sort of character study but also some minor plot, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Smut, Vanessa learns how to be in love, not entirely sure what this is tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:20:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22645540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaslyna/pseuds/Kaslyna
Summary: An AU where Ethan did not leave at the end of 2.10, and Vanessa learns to open herself up to love.
Relationships: Ethan Chandler/Vanessa Ives
Comments: 9
Kudos: 37





	What Love Is

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not entirely sure what this is?? I just got some ideas and they wouldn't leave me alone. Word vomit disguised as a character study, perhaps. Anyways, I hope someone enjoys this!

In the end they go not to the moors, but to another place, equally forgotten, in the north. Ethan negotiates the price of their lodgings with a man who seems desperate to be rid of the dilapidated cottage at the edge of the forest. It is a desolate place; the nearest town isn’t for miles. They give false names, a false story, in case the man tells anyone about them. It will do.

There is a tension, an uneasiness to the way they go about the motions of settling in. Eventually Vanessa suggests a walk, to gather what supplies they did not bring with them. Ethan agrees easily enough.

They split a bottle of brandy pilfered from Sir Malcolm’s stash after dinner. Perhaps they should ration it, but indulging feels too good. After, a cigarette passes hand to hand. Vanessa strips to her undergarments, and tries not to feel too uneasy that this is the first time he has seen the ritual of it. 

A waltz, both of them clumsy with drink, unused to the layout of their small shared space. It is a bad idea, for many reasons. She tries not to think too hard about any of them. 

She stops him, before his lips can meet hers. 

-o-o-o-

Before, they spend hours listing the places they could go. It is an exhaustive list; Ethan wants to try Europe, but Vanessa is unwilling to go so far wholly unprepared. In the end they compromise; they will go north, and bide their time before making a more permanent decision.

The exhaustion hits them both once they are done and the adrenaline of creating a plan has left them. Ethan retreats to his room, and Vanessa prepares for bed.

She does not want to be alone; it is this thought that propels her to his room. She does not get that far-she collides with Ethan in the hallway, who had evidently had the same idea. They stutter apologies, his hands on her arms, soothing.

“Come to mine,” he murmurs finally, after a moment of silence, “Less ghosts.”

So she does. It is awkward at first, laying in bed together, but she had insisted upon it. There are no pretenses now; the silence crackles with tension, desire running like an electric current between them. Neither is sure who ultimately makes the first move.

They fumble in the glow of the candles they left burning. Vanessa is sure in the moment that she has never truly wanted before. Not like this. She wonders if Ethan feels the same. She dares not ask.

She lets his hand find her breast, lets him settle on top of her. He is careful about his weight. She almost wishes he wasn’t.

“Wait,” she gasps against his mouth, and he stills instantly. 

She pushes him off, gently. Ethan rolls onto his back next to her, brow furrowed in confusion and concern. Vanessa sits and undoes the buttons on her nightgown, and shrugs the garment off to her waist, turning so her back is to him.

He understands fairly quickly, moving her hair over a shoulder. His fingertips trace the marred skin, and then his lips follow. 

She debates redressing as he pulls away, decides against it in favor of turning and kissing him once more. When they break the kiss this time, his mouth finds her neck, her collarbones, her chest.

She lets him see parts of her no other has seen, literally, figuratively.

He does not protest when she pushes him away, claiming tiredness.

She is awake for hours, body humming with desire.

-o-o-o-

He couldn’t live with the guilt, or at least that’s what Vanessa tells herself, to justify it. It would break him, surely, if she lost herself to the devil in the throes of passion. 

In truth, she is scared. She trusts Ethan, more than she has ever trusted any other man. But she can trust no one other than herself when it comes to keeping herself safe from the fallout of her desire.

So she tells herself she is sparing him pain.

And every night, the metaphorical distance between them grows.

She wonders when it will become a yawning chasm, too wide to be crossed.

Perhaps it is for the best.

-o-o-o-

The night is too cold. Vanessa lies shivering, hoping he doesn’t notice. But of course he does; Ethan is far too attuned to her. 

“Let me help,” he whispers, close to her ear but not touching her, not daring to do so without her explicit permission. She half wishes he would push. It would not take much for her to snap.

She nods, then murmurs back, “You may.”

His body is warm and solid; it is the first thing she notices when he shifts to wrap himself around her from behind. She takes his hand and settles it on her stomach; he buries his face in her hair and breathes her in, unable to help himself. 

It is the best sleep she has had in months. 

-o-o-o-

She starts letting him in, in little ways. Lets him hold her at night, or touch her arm, her back, her waist. He accepts what is given without asking for more, and it emboldens her. Soon, she thinks, she will break; she will be unable to keep herself at bay any longer.

Ethan wraps his arms around her from behind in the early light of morning, pressing a kiss to her temple before letting go. It happens so fast Vanessa cannot react, but nevertheless desire blooms within her at the simple touch. 

These small, intimate gestures haunt her. Affection is not something she thought she’d ever have, nor invite willingly.

And yet, here they are.

At night, they dance once more.

He does not try to kiss her again.

She aches with longing and the sting of regret.

-o-o-o-

In the beginning, she wakes to Ethan’s face at eye level with hers. He has been crying, and she wants nothing more than to wrap him in her arms, make his pain hers. Instead Vanessa waits for him to speak, for surely he has something to say.

“I’m not a good man, Vanessa,” his voice breaks at the end, “I can’t leave you. I just can’t.”

She leans forward, kisses where the new tears fall, then finally leaves a chaste one on his lips.

“You are the best of men, Ethan,” she tells him, hoping the conviction in her voice alone will convince him.

It doesn’t, but he stays, regardless.

-o-o-o-

She knows he is haunted by Sembene. It was not his fault, but no amount of her telling him so will ever be enough.

Still, he does not leave. And the furthest he goes is the next town over, for supplies from the general store.

Each time he goes, Vanessa prays it will not be the last she sees of Ethan.

-o-o-o-

He has brought home a bottle of whiskey this time. They sit and share half of it, and Ethan tells her a bit about his past, where he came from. He holds back. She is not the only one with shame and secrets. She tells him some of hers as well.

For the first time in this bleak cottage, at the edge of a long forgotten forest, she does not stop him when he tries to kiss her.

-o-o-o-

Ethan cries, after their first full moon in their new house. He tries to hide it from her, but Vanessa knows all too well, and that morning she wraps herself around him. He has helped her in so many ways to cope with her past, her present, her future. She only hopes to do the same for him.

She takes his pain and makes it hers.

And when he slumps against her in exhaustion, she guides them to the bed and lets him sleep with his head against her chest, listening to the steady thud of her heartbeat for reassurance.

She lays awake, and contemplates the nature of intimacy, of what it means to love and be loved in return.

It is a concept that is not so foreign now as it once was.

-o-o-o-

They finish the other half of the bottle a night later. Ethan drinks most of it, and Vanessa is fairly clear headed when he kisses her. When his hand finds her thigh she takes it gently, stops him. 

“Not like this,” she tells him, “Not after a drink.”

“Okay,” he breathes, because all he hears is, _this doesn’t mean not ever, though_.

It is exactly what she meant to convey.

-o-o-o-

His mouth is hot under hers, and she writhes in his lap. His hand is in her hair, on her ass. She feels the evidence of his desire, hard against her; her own takes the form of slickness down her thighs. She has wondered, if his lycanthropy heightens his senses, if he is aware of how he affects her. She is afraid of the answer.

“We can’t,” she pulls away, finally. 

“Do you trust me?” Ethan asks, and his heart breaks for Vanessa, so afraid of her own desires. He knows she trusts him inherently, but some wounds simply cannot be mended by trust alone.

“Yes,” she breathes.

He kisses her, soft and slow. When he stops he speaks almost against her lips, voice a soft murmur, “One day, you’ll trust me with this, too.”

“I don’t think you understand,” her voice is calm, collected, careful. It is entirely unlike how she feels inside.

That night, for the first time, she sleeps alone.

Perhaps it is for the best.

-o-o-o-

They rehearse the story they’ve come up with multiple times on the long journey north. For every place they go they’re different people, but for their final identity, they must be of one mind, always.

They are newlyweds, looking to start a new life. They do not care for the city and all it entails.

Vanessa wonders how they will convincingly play lovers.

Ethan hopes that she is not resentful of him for crafting this story.

They don’t discuss their feelings on the matter.

-o-o-o-

The cracks in her armor accumulate, one by one by one, until finally she can take no more. It is how she finds herself on top of Ethan in bed, naked and tangled in the bedsheets. She is terrified, but the desire outweighs it.

She trembles when she first takes him inside of her. 

He sits, wraps his arms around Vanessa. Their movements are slow, controlled. She is lightheaded from kisses, from desire, from fear. Ethan is so careful with her, as if she is fragile, as if she could break. And perhaps she could.

“Trust me?” he asks, voice deeper with desire. She has never wanted anyone more.

“Always,” she replies, instead of voicing the thought.

She is on her back in seconds. Ethan is cautious, gives her time to adjust to the change in position before moving.

His hand snakes between them, finds the place between her legs that makes her vision blur from desire.

When she comes, minutes later, she cries. She does not entirely know why.

Ethan holds her, and when she is calm once more, he begins to move again.

He comes quickly, groaning softly into her hair.

They hold each other, after.

Vanessa is still herself.

-o-o-o-

“I feel foolish,” she admits, days later, as they lay entwined in the wake of their passion.

“Why?” he props his head on his hand, looks at her.

Her smile is shy, embarrassed, “I did not know that it could be like that-that I could be like that-and the darkness within me remain dormant.”

“I love you,” is Ethan’s reply.

“I love you, too,” Vanessa whispers, and leans forward to kiss him.

It is answer enough.

In moments, they are lost to their desire once again.

-o-o-o-

Slowly but surely, they tell each other everything, learning to trust one another with the truly ugly parts of their souls. And Vanessa realizes that this is what love is, truly. It is not a battle to be fought and won, one person submitting wholly and the other dominating, but rather a meeting of two equals. It is trusting the other with the broken pieces, the pain held onto, trusting that they will be treated with care and perhaps even made better. It is accepting the other person, and loving them for who they are, not in spite of it.

In the end, they go traveling. 

But they always return to the cottage where it first started.

And one day, when no one is after Ethan any longer, they return to London once more, to be with their family.

They are happy.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed. I have some other ideas I've considered writing, but I haven't felt well enough to write lately. Unfortunately I tend to write in sporadic bursts and then stop for a while. It's a thing.


End file.
